‘What…’ the man begins, sensing danger, but Lomba quickly brings out his hand, clutching the passport and the foreign currency. The items act like a magnet: the agent’s hand automatically comes out of his pocket and stretches out to take them. His eyes behind his glasses are also on the items, but Lomba’s eyes are fixed on his face. When the agent’s hands are on the items, Lomba springs into action: releasing the money and passport, he steps forward and pushes the man’s chest violently with both hands. The man lands on the ground, on his back, shouting out a surprised oath. But the passport and the money are still tightly clutched in his fist – he is stunned by his fall, by the attack, but soon his hand will return to his pocket… Lomba turns and dashes across the road. A car screeches to a stop inches from him. He does not pause till he is standing at the head of a turning that disappears behind a house. He glances across the road. The man is up, the gun is out and pointing at Lomba. A loud bang, like a car backfiring, splits the air. Lomba sees the man’s hand jerk; something whizzes past his ear. He ducks instinctively, and runs into the turning.

James sees the bad news on Lomba’s face. He is in the car, looking at his watch, turning the radio on and off when Lomba appears and opens the passenger door.

‘Is she OK?’ James asks, not looking at Lomba, his body braced for the worst.

‘Yes. But I lost the passport and money,’ Lomba blurts out without preamble. ‘They shot at me with a gun.’ His body is still shaking.

James reaches out and takes his hand. ‘Take it easy. What happened?’

Lomba tells him, his voice gradually steadying. ‘I am sorry. I bungled,’ he concludes miserably.

‘Oh, it is all right. The important thing is that you got away. I can get ten passports today if I want to. I’ve friends. In fact, let’s go and see one now,’ James consoles him, and starts the car. ‘He lives in Ikeja.’

But Lomba can tell that he is distressed. James says nothing as they drive – but his very concentration on the road before him is indicative of his attempt to suppress the turmoil in his mind. He will be thinking of his wife and children and how the seizure of his passport will affect them. Suddenly, the car begins to jerk and stall. James decelerates and they crawl on. ‘We are out of fuel.’ The finger on the fuel gauge flickers past zero. James lets the car roll to the side of the road. Finally, it stops.